


le claquement

by bluejaythebeautiful



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Cuddles, F/M, For All Of Them, Hiking, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Multi, Piano, References to ABBA, Thanos' Snap, dust - Freeform, starts off cute but turns sad, very quickly, y'all are gonna hate me lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 16:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16836334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejaythebeautiful/pseuds/bluejaythebeautiful
Summary: Les Amis, if they had existed during Infinity War.





	le claquement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LavenderPhantump](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavenderPhantump/gifts).



> i'm not sorry for this at all

**Joly/Bossuet/Musichetta:**

“Waterloo! Finally facing my Waterloo!”

Joly and Musichetta’s voices rang through the apartment as they danced, jumping off of the coffee table and couches. Abba could barely be heard under their singing. Bossuet, wary of breaking anything, whether it be bones or TVs, had planted himself firmly on the couch cushions to film his partners’ antics.

“And how could I ever refuse,” Chetta sang, reaching out towards Joly.

“I feel like I win when I loooooose!” Joly grabbed her hand and spun her around, dipping her so her hair brushed the wooden floor. She popped back up to plant a kiss on him before jumping back and continuing. 

“Waterloo! Couldn’t escape if I wanted to,” she said, laughing.

Bossuet held his stomach in laughter, careful to keep his phone trained on them. He joined them for the last verse, his deep voice easily matching them.

Joly and Cheta collapsed onto the couch in a fit of giggles, enveloping Bossuet in a hug.

“Oh, shit, phone’s about to die. I’ll be right back.” He pressed kisses to his partners’ foreheads before struggling out of the cuddle pile. He double, then triple, checked that the video had been saved as he made his way into the bedroom. “Hey, where’s the charger?” he called out.

No answer.

“C’mon, guys, surely one of you knows?” He dropped his phone onto the bed and went back to the living room, only to find it empty. “Joly? Chetta?” A swirl of dust caught his eye. Right where the two had been sitting, just moments before, was covered in ash, some still floating above. His phone beeped frantically, and as he read the incoming messages, he cursed his luck. He had survived, yes, but at what cost?

**Jehanparnasse:**

_ I should do this more often,  _ Montparnasse thought as he lay in the afternoon sunlight. He had his head resting in Jehan’s lap, their fingers threading through his hair. Their blunt nails scratched at his scalp. He wouldn’t admit it, but if he could, he’d probably be purring right now.

“You’re like a big, lanky, grumpy, cat,” Jehan said, almost as if they had read his thoughts.

“Yeah, but I’m  _ your  _ big, lanky, grumpy, cat,” Montparnasse responded with a grin. He leaned his head back to wink at them, snatching up one of their hands to press a kiss to their knuckles.

Jehan’s shoulders shook with barely contained laughter. “Should I start calling you  _ Purr _ nasse?” they asked, brushing hair away from his eyes. “I won’t do it around-”

Montparnasse’s head hit the ground with a thunk. “What the hell?” He coughed, waving away the dust that had landed on his face. “Jehan?”

The redhead was nowhere to be seen. The only proof they had been there at all were the chips of nail polish left in Montparnasse’s hair, the tiny flakes of color that had peeled off in the scratching. Stomach full of dread, Montparnasse turned on his phone to see a news alert issued, warning people that half the world’s population had just turned to dust.

He wished it were him instead.

**Enjoltaire:**

The only sounds filling the dimly lit room were the clacking of a keyboard and the scratching of pencil on paper. Grantaire, stretched out on his stomach, was idly sketching Enjolras as the other prepared his next speech. The two hadn’t spoken in a while, but neither minded. They were both too caught up in their own activities to care.

Grantaire placed his pencil on the bed, giving up on the sketch. He just couldn’t get the cheekbone right, no matter how hard he tried, so he was content to sit and watch.

“You’re staring,” Enjolras mumbled, not looking up. 

“I know,” Grantaire replied. He propped his chin in his hands. “Can’t help it.” He shot a cheeky grin at Enj once he looked up. 

Enjolras shook his head with a smile, going back to his speech. He placed his laptop on the desk and turned his back to Grantaire. “Well, since you’re done sketching, would you mind helping me out with this?”

“Yeah, I guess. Gotta put this away, though.” Grantaire flipped his sketchbook closed and slid off the bed, padding over to the bookcase. He slid it among the rest of the books.

“Henri?”

That was odd. They  _ never  _ called each other by their first names, unless they were serious. He turned to Enjolras. “Yes, Jul- Julian!” 

Enjolras looked up from his rapidly dissipating hand. He reached out with his intact one, and barely brushed Grantaire’s fingers before he faded away.

Grantaire had never seen him look that scared. 

**Courferre:**

“No, no, put your hand like  _ this.  _ There, much more comfortable, see?” Combeferre lifted Courfeyrac’s wrist, positioning his fingers over the keys. “Always hold your hand straight, never bent.”

“Bold of you to assume I can do  _ anything  _ straight,” Courfeyrac said, nudging Combeferre’s side with his other arm. The two were squished together on the piano bench, Ferre attempting to teach Courf how to play. He had one arm wrapped around him so he could move Courf’s hands with his own. It was a little slow going, but it was only because Courf kept trying to distract Ferre. 

Ferre chuckled and pulled Courf’s hand to another section of keys. “Press here, and here.” With Ferre’s help, Courf played the beginning of Fur Elise. It was slower than it was supposed to be, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

Courf leaned his head on Ferre’s shoulder after the other voiced this. “Aww, thanks!” He shifted to face Ferre better and went for a kiss.

Ferre closed his eyes, but when no kiss came and the warmth faded from beside him, he opened them again. He caught Courf’s terrified expression just as it turned into ash, and his hand fell onto the piano with a clang. Courf was gone.

He wrapped his arms around his torso. Snatching up his phone, he texted the group chat, hoping no one else was hurt.

Only half of them replied.

**Bromos:**

The sun filtered through the leaves and speckled the ground in front of them as Bahorel and Feuilly trekked through the forest. They had followed this trail many times before, but they never tired of it. It had become  _ their  _ trail.

Feuilly pushed ahead to where the sunlight became clearer. They had made it to the end of the trail, where it opened up to a cliff overlooking the rest of the forest. “I can never not love this view,” Feuilly called back.

“Yeah, neither can I,” Bahorel said.

“You’re looking at my ass, aren’t you?”

“Well, when you wear such tight jeans…”

Feuilly snickered and waved Bahorel closer. “C’mon, let’s just sit here.” He lowered himself to the ground and swung his legs off the edge, feet dangling. After a moment, Bahorel joined him.

They sat in silence, Bahorel leaning back on his hands and Feuilly lying down next to him. The wind blew around them and ruffled their hair. Bahorel eventually stretched out as well, reaching over to place his hand over Feuilly’s.

When he couldn’t find it, he looked over in confusion.

The spot next to him was empty. The grass was still squished from Feuilly’s weight, but were now gray with dust. Bahorel sat up in alarm. “Feuilly?” he whispered, reaching out to touch where his face would have been.

He bolted back to the trail head, where his car and signal were waiting. Heart pounding, he collapsed in the driver’s seat. He started the car, and a national warning blared from the radio.

His stomach dropped as he realized that Feuilly wasn’t the only one lost that day.

**Marieposette:**

Cosette loved her partners dearly. Though their relationship was new, Eponine and Marius had quickly become her two favorite people in her life (besides her papa, of course). Eponine had suggested they watch a movie, but it soon devolved into a cuddle session with Eponine between Cosette and Marius. None of them were really paying attention to the movie anymore. They had decided to watch it in Cosette’s room, where Valjean had graciously provided them with a TV.

Marius had his arm draped over both their waists, head resting on Eponine’s chest. He looked close to falling asleep, half closed eyes still trained on  _ The Princess Bride.  _ “Why’d they jump out the window?” he mumbled. 

“Fezzik caught them,” Eponine said, hand stroking Cosette’s hair. “They’re fine.” She laughed as Marius started snoring, his eyes finally drifting shut. 

Cosette reached over and ruffled his hair. “I don’t think he got much sleep last night,” she whispered, careful not to wake him up. She smiled when Eponine looked over, and darted forward to giver her a kiss.

Eponine turned bright red. “I, uhh…” she said.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that out of line?” Cosette asked, pulling back. 

“No, you’re fine, I’m not used to… this,” Eponine said. “I liked it.” She smiled back, then reached forward to kiss Cosette’s cheek. “I’ll get the hang of it.” 

Cosette giggled and shuffled so she could lay her head on Eponine’s shoulder. Careful not to disturb Marius, she laid her arm over Eponine’s chest, her other arm pressed into her side. She shut her eyes.

The warmth beneath her disappeared. Her back hit the bed, and Marius was startled awake. “What?” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“Eponine’s gone!” Cosette cried out, hands gripping the bed sheets. “What just happened?”

Marius snapped to attention. “I don’t know! What’s with the dust?”

Cosette, tears threatening to leak out of her eyes, reached out to gently touch the spot on her bed. “I think that’s her,” she whispered.

As Westley and Buttercup had their happy ending on screen, Marius and Cosette huddled together, with the distinct feeling that their happy ending had just vanished.

**Author's Note:**

> hey if you hate me come tell me on [discord](https://discord.gg/Npt5nmn). just. yell at me. i deserve it.  
> also [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhRUuGNjF08) is what joly and chetta are doing, except in their apartment and also it's tessa thompson instead of lily james  
> every time i listen to the mamma mia version i imagine them doing that


End file.
